


The Commander and His Hand

by WindySuspirations



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullen Rutherford Smut, Cullen Smut, F/M, Fantasizing, Male Solo, Masturbation, POV Cullen Rutherford, POV First Person, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 03:22:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12950238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WindySuspirations/pseuds/WindySuspirations
Summary: After being teased by the Inquisitor during a War Meeting, Cullen takes matters into his own hands.





	The Commander and His Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure how good this turned out, but I hope you enjoy it!

Maker’s breath!

I  fling open the door to my tower office and quarters, letting it slam behind me as I trudge inside.

That Void-taken woman will be the death of me. She was wearing — oh, I cannot even describe it — it was frilly and falling off her shoulders, and her breasts were practically falling out of it. She leaned against her side of the War Table, and they were spilling over the map! Maker, I wanted to _have_ her right there, Leliana and Josephine’s sensibilities be damned.

I groan and lean back against the closed door, the leather of my pants constricting painfully around my erect cock. Briefly, I consider heading down to the Herald’s Rest and finding a woman to bed, as I have done on occasion. Maker knows I could use the release, but  I quickly discard the idea; I am exhausted, and one of my headaches is starting above my left eyebrow. I just want to go to bed.

Upstairs in my loft, I carefully remove my armor and set each piece on the armor stand in one corner. I sigh with relief and roll my shoulders to work out the stiffness. It’s quite literally a weight off my shoulders to take it off.

As my fingers work the buttons of my shirt and peel it off my sweaty skin, she comes to mind again, standing on the other side of the War Table wearing that blasted outfit and tossing me a come hither look with huge eyes.  Damn woman. What does she think she is playing at? I have half a mind to show her just how dangerous it can be to tease me so the next time she flounces into a sodding War Meeting looking like sin.

A dark scowl on my face, I growl as I unfasten my pants and shuck out of them, taking my smalls down with them and throwing them on the floor to land beside my shirt. My cock springs free and I sigh in relief. I glare at the evidence of my arousal. This is her fault. Her and her tempting ways.

Maker help me, I know better, truly I do. I know she is untouchable. A noble. The fucking Herald of Andraste, for Maker’s sake! I am not a callow youth any longer, to chase after every skirt that twitches my way.

So why must she bedevil me so? Padding to the ewer standing beside the basin on a table along the wall, I pour some water into the basin and grab a cloth.  Wetting it in the cool water, I pass the cloth across my hairy chest. I caught her observing me the other day when I was running drills in the training yard shirtless. She is not unaffected by me, clearly. I know the effect I have on women; I am not obtuse, but I am her Commander, damn it! More than ten years her senior, an addict, and a bloody mess, still waking with screams in my throat from my nightmares every night.

I know better.  I know I’ve no right to think about her in that way, much less touch her!

I finish wiping the sweat from my body and toss the cloth into the basin with a heavy sigh. Then why am I letting that slip of a girl get to me?  Looking at my exhausted face in the mirror, I groan and run a hand down my features.

Climbing into bed, I shut my eyes and do math equations in my head to try and get her and her curvy feminine body out of my mind — I need sleep. Badly. And this obsession with the Inquisitor is helping no one, least of all me.

But not even the equation for calibrating a trebuchet for accuracy during a windstorm can take my mind off her tempting white skin, the soft swells of her breasts above that shamefully tight corset, or the teasing smirk on her rosy lips when she looked at me as if daring me to react to her. To do what I wanted to do. What she knows that I want to do, damn her!

Groaning, I raise my head to peer down at my erection pointing proudly toward my belly, a stream of pre-come leaking from my slit and running down the shaft to conceal sticky in the thatch of hair surrounding it. It’s not going to go away until I take care of it, and I know it.

I sigh and wrap one fist around my member and begin slowly stroking it up and down. I picture her — of course, I do. She’s ingrained in my mind, has been since I saw her on the battlefield, hair whipping around her like a cape, sparks flying off her hands as she assessed the threat to her and her companions.

She was beautiful to me then, and she’s  beyond that now. She’s kneeling between my spread thighs, those red lips parted, a hint of white teeth showing as she gazes down at me. She’s as naked as I am, and I want to sit up and caress her plump breasts and nibble on her pert nipples. I want to make her arch into me and moan my name.

But the little minx has other ideas. She leans forward and takes me in her mouth. I groan at the contact of her hot, warm mouth surrounding me. Her long hair fans around my thighs as she licks her way up my shaft, teasing little flicks on the sensitive underside of the head.

I lean over to pull open a drawer on my nightstand and fish out a vial of oil I keep in there. Liberally coating my hands with the slick liquid, I take my thumb and gently rub that sensitive area, simulating what her tongue would feel like on me. So good. Oh, so fucking good.

My breath leaves me in a low hiss as I lie back on my pillows, trailing an oily hand down my chest and stomach, imagining it is her doing it. Oh, if only she were truly here with me now!  How I would worship her body. I would leave no part of her untouched — I would make her sing for me.

Mmm. Yes. The scarred corner of my mouth lifts in a smirk.I would show her what happens to saucy girls who tease their Commander so!

She is kneeling on the bed in front of me, and I grab her arms,  urging her to straddle me, her tight little cleft hovering just above my cock. Sliding my hand up her smooth belly to her creamy breasts, caressing each before circling her delicate throat with one hand, I gently, ever so slowly coax her down, down around my waiting cock. I close my eyes and groan. I want to start thrusting, but no, not yet. I need, fucking _need_ to savor the feeling of her wrapped around me. Maker, how good it would feel!

“Not yet,” I whisper into the still silence of my loft. “Not yet, sweetheart.”

I am completely lost in my fantasy now. It’s not my own hand gripping my cock — it’s her sweet, young cunny.  I tighten my fist, and she is quivering above me, her breaths coming out in hitching gasps, mirroring my own and urging me to move. My will vanishes, and I can deny her no longer.

I  thrust up into my hand, fucking my fist furiously as I imagine it’s her I am driving up into. So hot, so wet, so tight. She grips my cock, tightening down around me as her pleasure rises. I help her along to her end, rubbing her pearl with my thumb as I continue to fuck her. Hard. Her lovely, perfect breasts are bouncing with the force of our coupling, and she throws her head back thrusting them into my face as I sit up to take one pink nipple into my mouth.  She moans and shivers as she reaches for her climax.

“Oh yes,love, yes, come for me,” I growl, and she comes, screaming my name into the night. Seconds later her own name leaves my lips in a loud cry as I come all over my hands and stomach, the force of my orgasm leaving me spent and shaking on my bed.

I drift for a while, imagining that she is lying beside me, snuggled up to my chest, but when I open my eyes, I am alone in my bed, a cooling, congealing mess on my belly and no one to hold as I drift off to sleep.


End file.
